The In-Between
by Curioser
Summary: The scenes we don't see between episodes. Story 2: The day after "Red Star," the Titans are down after the loss of an honorary member. What better way to lift their spirits than an all-out snow-brawl?
1. Collective Nouns for Titans in the Wild

_Hiya, friends._

 _I've been toying for a while about doing a series of one-shots about the Titan dynamics we never get to see: the consequences of certain episodes, conversations and growth that are implied but not shown, and all the fun relational, domestic aspects of the show that we don't get enough of. I figured, instead of posting them individually as one-shots, I'd put them in a collection._

 _So…here we are. These will likely slip back and forth through the show's timeline. They will likely not be consistent with one another, so you might see certain thematic or situational elements repeated. But hopefully you'll enjoy reading them as much as I do writing them. These characters are just so much darn fun._

 _This fluffy bit of nonsense takes place right after "Overdrive," where Cyborg tricks Billy Numerous into overexerting himself by making holograms of the other Titans._

 **Chapter 1: Collective Nouns for Titans in the Wild**

" _Dude!"_

Cyborg paused in the act of cracking eggs. "What?"

By now, Beast Boy's cry of indignation over Cyborg's breakfast choices was as clear a signal of the morning as a rooster crow.

" _Sausage casserole?_ You want to eat chickens _inside_ pigs? It's not enough for you to just eat them beside each other?"

"Man, you don't have any idea how good meat with meat is. Ever heard of a turducken?"

"You mean a _Frankenstein abomination for carnivores—"_

You'd think it would get old—and often, it did. But today, flushed with relief and victory after taking down Billy Numerous, the Titans were in a good enough mood to find it endearing. Sausage for the casserole sizzled in the frying pan, the smell of fresh coffee filled the kitchen, and the living room was awash in bright morning light.

These were the mornings Starfire loved most. She giggled as Beast Boy made an unsuccessful dive at Cyborg's spatula. Across the table, Robin attempted to hide an amused smile, but Starfire caught his eye and a grin broke across his face. Even Raven's eyes seemed to twinkle over the rim of her tea mug. She hid it by shooting a disapproving look at Cyborg.

"I thought you were supposed to be going to bed," she said. "After having a Maximum-7 meltdown last night."

"I _will_ ," Cyborg insisted, with the decency to look a little guilty. "But I figured a little thing like a system crash shouldn't throw off the traditional, post-bad-guy-butt-kicking breakfast."

"Billy Numerous did not know what hit him!" Starfire beamed. "It was an ingenious piece of trickery, friend."

Cyborg grinned. "Thanks, Star." He chuckled as he scooped sausage into a baking pan and poured eggs over it. Beast Boy, disgusted but defeated, leaned on the counter with his arms crossed, pulling a face. "Man, I thought Billy was gonna puke when he saw twelve Starfires coming at him. I'm gonna pull that video later and make a gif set of it."

Robin cackled. It took Starfire a moment to remember what a _gif_ was: one of the small moving images, not static like a _picture_ or long enough to be considered a _video._

"I'm still weirded out that your eye records all that stuff," said Beast Boy. "Like, it's taking video _all the time._ "

"You must have sorted through hundreds of hours of footage to build holograms that could act so organically," said Robin.

"Not really. I just built a program that could isolate certain patterns of movement and cross-referenced it with—"

"Yeah, okay," said Beast Boy, waving his hand. "I'm just gonna pretend you used, like, _magic_ to create a whole flock of Ravens."

"Murder."

Everyone stopped what they were doing to stare at Raven, who took a sip of tea as though she hadn't just said the word "murder" for no reason at the breakfast table. Of course, of the five of them, Raven was definitely most likely to say something like that without preamble. But still.

"Come again?" Starfire inquired, in a much more polite voice than the situation warranted.

"You, uh, have something you want to share, Rae?" Beast Boy edged farther down the counter, away from the resident empath. Cyborg gripped his spatula a little tighter. Only Robin looked unsurprised, mouth still curved in amusement.

"It's not a _flock,_ " Raven said mildly. "A group of ravens is called a _murder._ "

Cyborg seemed to sag with relief. " _Woman,_ " he said, pointing the spatula at her. "You can't _do_ crap like that, especially not after an all-nighter. I think my core skipped a beat, and that ain't actually possible."

"Please," Starfire interjected, over the sounds of Beast Boy's sputtering and Robin's snicker. "Why is 'flock' incorrect? Does it not also mean 'multiple birds'?"

"Yes," Raven said. "But _murder_ is the collective noun. Lots of things have them. A _pride_ of lions. A _glaring_ of cats. That kind of thing."

Starfire's mind reeled. She knew these words in very different context: _Pride_ was what she felt after a well-aimed starbolt found its mark; _glaring_ was what Raven did to Beast Boy…most of the time, really. Neither of them were synonymous with "group," "flock," "pack" or any of the other words she had heard to describe multiple somethings.

"Why use so many words when one would suffice? And why would the word for multiple ravens be the same as the one for—killing another person?"

"It's wordplay, Star," said Robin. "It's meant to put a certain picture in your head, or to make you feel a certain way. Ravens—the birds, that is—are carrion animals. They eat dead things. And because people are so used to seeing them where something or someone has died, we started associating big black birds with death. But—" and here he turned to Raven, almost apologetically—"I think it's actually a murder of _crows._ A group of ravens is an _unkindness._ "

Raven looked distinctly offended at having been corrected. Beast Boy coughed the word " _nerd_ ," and Robin took the rubber band wrapped around the morning newspaper and flicked it at Beast Boy's head.

"Sophomore AP lit class, asshole."

"So it is for…amusement?" Starfire considered this. Tamaranean poetry was much more straightforward, but she supposed she could see the merits of this English custom. "It is for art?"

"Something like that."

"If it is not truly a murder of ravens, the bird," Starfire said, glancing at her hooded friend, "perhaps it can be a murder of Ravens, the person?"

"I'll allow it," said Raven primly. Robin shot her a sheepish grin. Starfire mulled it over, warming to the idea.

"A murder of Ravens," she mused. Her eyes fell on the youngest Titan. "And what should we call multiple Beast Boys?"

Beast Boy's eyes lit up, seizing on the game at once. "Oooh. How about—an _awesomeness_ of Beast Boys? Or a _bad-assery_ of Beast Boys?"

"Or an _annoyance_ of Beast Boys," said Raven drily, and Cyborg hooted with laughter. The casserole made its way into the oven, and he joined them at the table.

"It could be a _stain_ of Beast Boys," he suggested. "'Cuz he's a grass stain, get it?"

"Or a _mess_ of Beast Boys," Robin teased. "For obvious reasons."

"Better than a boring little _flock,_ " Beast Boy shot back, sticking out his tongue.

"A group of robins isn't a _flock,_ it's a _round._ A group of _Robins,_ though—"

"Something fight-related," said Cyborg. "Like—a _squadron._ Or a _battalion._ "

"I like _troupe_."

" _Troop,_ like soldiers?" asked Raven. Robin blushed, very slightly.

" _Troupe_ like acrobats. What are you, Cyborg?"

"Tough one. Let me check Google—" He blinked. "So a group of mechanics is called a _torque,_ but I don't like the sound of that. Group of scientists is a _beacon_ , which is better. Maybe…"

"A _computation_ of Cyborgs?" Robin suggested. "A _calculation?_ "

"OOOH, me, me!" Beast Boy's hand shot into the air. "You like to build stuff, right? What about an _invention_ of Cyborgs?"

"Aw, YEAH!" They high-fived. "That's the best idea you ever had, string bean."

"I do my best."

"Four down." Raven turned to face Starfire. "What do we call a group of Starfires?"

"How about a _shooting?_ Like shooting stars?"

"Or like a meteor shower. A _shower_ of Starfires?"

"Nope." Robin shook his head. "I'm vetoing that right now. That sounds a lot dirtier than you think it does."

"No it doesn't," Beast Boy sniggered. This time Robin hit him with the newspaper. " _Ow!_ "

"A _flaring,_ " said Raven. "Like a supernova."

"Or a _radiance,"_ Robin suggested. Raven raised her eyebrows, smirking. "What? Stars are radiant—"

"I think I should simply like to be a _flight,_ " said Starfire.

"A _flight_ of Starfires." Cyborg held up a hand, ticking them off on his fingers. "An _invention_ of Cyborgs. An _annoyance_ of Beast Boys—"

"HEY!"

"—a _troupe_ of Robins and a _murder_ of Ravens. The collective nouns for the Teen Titans."

"Glorious!" Starfire beamed. "But what does one call multiple Teen Titans?"

Cyborg raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't we just call it a team?"

"Oh, this one's easy." Everyone turned to Robin. A playful grin spread across his face. "A group of Titans is called a _clash._ "

 _AN: Reviews are always very much appreciated._


	2. The Art of Snow-Fu

**Story 2: The Art of Snow-Fu**

 _AN: Set the day after the events of "Red Star." Just a fluffy bit of fun for the team._

Beast Boy had never seen so much snow in his life.

He'd been staring at it for days. In the town of Vostok, right on the rim of the Arctic Circle, there wasn't much else to look at, even when visibility wasn't limited by a whiteout blizzard.

Or when you weren't being distracted by a radioactive monster, as the Titans had been for the last three days.

Now, in the dawn light of a short Arctic day, the snow was a glittering white sheet as far as he could see. His spirits, which had been muted and subdued since the night before—since Red Star burst over their heads like a celestial firework—began to rise.

He wanted to otter-slide down a hill, or go bounding through the drifts as a polar bear or a fox. He wanted to do just about anything but listen to Robin, who was working his way through an ever-growing to-do list. The T-Ship had never been through a blizzard before, and while Cyborg was fairly certain it would be fine, he'd wanted to run a few maintenance checks just in case.

Now that they were out here, though, Cyborg was staring out at the sparkling landscape. He too had been quiet ever since Red Star's…departure. (Death? Did they consider it a death? Beast Boy wasn't sure, and he was afraid to ask.) But the look on Cyborg's face now was less mournful than wistful as he took in the snow, barely paying attention to Robin at all.

"We should probably do a full diagnostic to make sure none of the fluids froze in these temperatures." Robin typed a message into his communicator, likely sending his list of chores to the girls as well. As usual, he was all business, as though the night before had just been another routine mission. He and Starfire had been the last to come in the night before, watching Red Star's light fade from the top of the hill. Maybe, for Robin, that had been enough. Beast Boy didn't understand it.

He reached down and filled his hands with snow. It molded easily when he squeezed it into a ball. Just like in the movies.

Cyborg caught his eye. Without saying a word, they grinned identical grins—the kind of grin that said yes, they had come up with the exact same idea at the exact same time, and yes, it was going to get them in _tons_ of trouble, but god, it would be worth it.

"Once Starfire and Raven get back, we'll take it for a test flight to check out the pods' docking mechanisms."

"Yeah, we could do that," Cyborg said, scooping up an armful of white powder. "Or."

"And we should probably go back up to Red Star's warehouse and do another check for leaks. I know we've done it already, and the girls said they hadn't seen any more monsters running around, but that chemical runoff is dangerous. We can't be too careful."

"Yeah," Beast Boy agreed, crafting another snowball. "Or."

Robin looked up then, his gaze traveling from their wicked smiles to the snowballs in their hands. He studied them for a long, long moment.

Then he closed his communicator and slipped it into the pocket of his parka.

"You're going to want to think very carefully before you do this," he said quietly.

"Yeah?" Cyborg was busy smoothing the edges of his creation, more snow boulder than ball. "And why's that?"

"Because you're from the West Coast, Cyborg. And Beast Boy, you grew up in Africa. You two don't know what you're dealing with."

"What, with snow?" asked Beast Boy. He had three snowballs now in the crook of his arm, a fact he sensed Robin was keenly aware of. "Like it's hard, dude."

"Not with the snow," Robin replied, still in that voice of deadly calm. "With me."

Cyborg snorted.

"Look, man, I know you're a master of like twelve different martial arts, but ain't none of 'em the art of snow-fu."

"Snow-fu is more than an art. It's a way of life." Robin's threatening tone cracked as his speech got more dramatic, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You two have never lived through an East Coast winter. You don't know the training I received on the streets of Gotham City, and you don't want to find out."

"That a threat, Bird Boy?" asked Cyborg, raising his snow boulder to his chest.

"It's a pro—"

 _WHAM._

Robin fell backward from the force of the snowball as Beast Boy, with one gorilla arm, wound up for another throw.

Spitting snow, raking his hand across his mask to clear his vision, Robin sprang back up in a fighting stance. He flipped his hood up, cracked his neck, and gave them an evil smile.

"Oh shit," said Beast Boy.

TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

The T-Ship was barely in sight when Starfire heard Raven groan: "Oh, no."

They landed in what looked like a warzone sculpted out of snow. Piles and drifts had been hastily scraped into battlements and just as hastily abandoned, crushed into ruin by trampling footprints. The cold air rang with the boys' wild yelling.

"DAMMIT CYBORG, HE WAS RIGHT THERE—"

" _You hit him then if you're so smart—"_

"INCOMING!"

Cyborg and Beast Boy came pelting around the side of the ship, snowballs exploding against their backs. Starfire and Raven stepped back as they dove for cover behind a battered snowdrift. The girls looked up to see Robin perched on top of the T-Ship, cackling triumphantly.

"What have you done?" asked Raven, her eyes narrowed at the two boys on the ground.

"Get down, ladies!" Beast Boy shouted. Whatever game they were playing, they were clearly too far in to come out until somebody won. "Robin's an ice fiend! We can't even hit him!"

"He's a madman! The power's gone right to his head!" Cyborg was grinning like a loon as he scraped together another projectile and flung it at Robin's head. With an over-the-top yell, Robin karate-chopped it out of the sky.

"GOTHAM CITY, BITCHES!" he crowed. "Give up yet, West Coast?"

"Not on your life! BB, you ready-?"

"WHAT?" the changeling shouted back, knocking himself hard on one side of his head. The ear on the opposite side was packed tight with snow. Atop the ship, Robin was laughing so hard he was in real danger of rupturing an organ.

"I believe this is the 'fight of snowballs' I have heard of," said Starfire, while Raven rolled her eyes. "I was not aware it would be so…violent."

"That's because our friends have no sense of moderation," Raven answered. All three boys were busily rolling more weapons. Robin's arsenal was piled to his knees and growing taller.

"Okay. Now don't friggin' miss this time—"

" _My_ aim is gonna depend on _your_ aim, you little grass stain, so watch yourself. You ready?"

"Load me up!"

Beast Boy morphed into a crocodile, into whose mouth Cyborg deposited an armful of snowballs before it morphed again, elongating into a brontosaurus. Catapulted on the end of Beast Boy's tail, Cyborg flew into the air with a snowball in each hand.

"FOR JUMP!" he shouted, hurling the snowballs down as he sailed over Robin's head. Robin dodged them both and still landed three hits himself. He spun and nailed Beast Boy—who was soaring overhead as a pelican, a gullet full of snowballs ready to drop on the Boy Wonder—right in the throat. Beast Boy went down with a squall, accidentally swallowing his ammunition.

"Dude!" he wailed from the ground. "BRAIN FREEZE!"

Cyborg struggled out of the drift he had fallen into. Snow steamed off the casing of his circuitry as he approached, growling.

"Y'all gonna help, or you just gonna stand there?"

"Stand here," said Raven. "Obviously."

"Looks like you guys are out of luck," Robin called from the top of the T-Ship. "It'll be better if you surrender now."

"No way! We've still got Starfire!" Beast Boy turned a pair of pleading eyes to the alien princess. "Right, Star?" he said, turning the puppy-dog charm on full blast.

"Don't do it, Star!" Robin held out a mittened hand, gesturing for her to join him. "Come join my team! They won't stand a chance!"

For a moment, it looked as though Beast Boy and Cyborg were going to quit right there: There was no way they could beat both Robin _and_ Starfire, and there was no way she was going to turn down Robin's offer to team up. Except—

"But Robin, it appears you have the unfair advantage."

Robin's jaw actually dropped as Starfire stepped toward the other two boys.

" _Starfire!_ " he cried, indignant.

"It would be unkind to our friends, would it not? The odds would be mismatched." Starfire maintained an impressive poker face, even though the amusement was creeping into her voice. "And you are abusing your power. I fear you have become the villain, and must be stopped."

Robin's look of astonishment was so priceless, Beast Boy wished he had a camera to capture it. But he composed himself quickly.

"You know that means we'll have to fight each other."

"It appears so."

"I guess this is it, then. Friendship over."

"Alas."

"We had a good run."

"Indeed."

Both of them were grinning now as they bantered—big, stupid, playful grins. The other three exchanged looks of exasperation.

"Oh _god,_ " Raven muttered, and disappeared in a black shroud of magic.

"Grooooosssss," Beast Boy called out. "Stop flirting, guys, come on! Fight, fight!"

"We're not _flirting,_ " Robin snapped. Starfire raised an eyebrow. "But okay. You can make it three-on-one. And you're _still_ going to get your butts kicked."

"You know," said Cyborg, "I _really_ doubt it."

He pointed over Robin's shoulder with a metallic finger. Robin scoffed.

"Like I'm going to fall for that. That's the lamest—"

A shadow fell across the T-Ship, and Robin turned, just in time to see a bank of snow rising up like a tidal wave behind him, lifted and guided by black magic.

" _Shit no Raven that's cheating—"_

The snow came crashing down, sweeping Robin off his perch and into the bank beside Beast Boy—and Raven stepped out of the air to take her place as victor.

"AZARATH!" she shouted. And then, after a moment's thought, "BITCHES."

"Four on Raven!" Beast Boy bellowed, as Robin wrestled out of his snow-crater. "Titans, go, go, GO!"

And the fight renewed in earnest.


End file.
